


Evil Author Day 2015

by Assassin_J



Category: Assassin's Creed
Genre: 18th Century, Apple of Eden, Assassin's Creed IV: Black Flag, Assassin's Creed: Brotherhood Spoilers, Evil Author Day, F/M, Gen, In the Animus, Modern Day, Teasers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-15
Updated: 2015-02-15
Packaged: 2018-03-13 02:36:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 2,131
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3364562
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Assassin_J/pseuds/Assassin_J
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Evil Author Day: where you post teasing snippets from works in progress.</p><p>Chapter 1: Alexis Chandler saga<br/>Chapter 2: Untitled Edward Kenway thing<br/>Chapter 3: Mysterious DesBecca thing<br/>Chapter 4: Mysterious Desmond thing<br/>Chapter 4: Mysterious Desmond and Clay thing</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Shaun opened his dossier and scanned the contents. "So I'm a neurosurgeon now? Dr Daniel Wallace." He repeated the pseudonym slowly, testing the flavor of the syllables. "Dr Daniel Wallace." 

"Yep," Rebecca handed another folder to William, "and so are you, Bill, except you're not Bill now, you're 'Dr. John Lancer'. And Lex, ahem, I mean 'June Norwood' is your anesthesiologist. We're a research team from SUNY working on experimental gene therapy."

Alexis chuckled. "Gene therapy. Heh. I guess that's kinda sorta close to the truth."

"Except it's completely not," Shaun said, deadpan.

"Is the flight booked?"

Rebecca's jaunty ease gave way to nervousness. "Ah, well, no, it's not," she stammered. "Y'see, it's gonna be a bitch to get the Animus through airport security. That's gonna be the sticking point. I was kinda really hoping he'd be out of his coma by now."

"Oh come on, Rebecca!" griped Shaun. "He's had enough of a lie in! We've got to get a move on! There has to be a way you can just prod him back to the land of the living, right?"

There was an uneasy silence as the phrase "land of the living" filled the room almost menacingly, a grim reminder of their no-longer-living teammate.

* * *

William strode into the room, looking as if he hadn't slept for days, but still radiating a commanding aura. "Desmond. Do you know the location of the temples?"

"Christ, dad! How about a 'Hello'!?" Desmond griped. "How about 'Nice to see you for the first time in forever! How are you feeling after that coma?'!"

The man stood a yard from his son, looking down with some strange expression that mixed disappointment, expectation, and a barely perceptible amount of concern. "Hello. What have you been up to these last nine years?"

The terse reply came after a beat. "Trying to have a normal life."

"Would that we had that luxury. Do you know or not?"

"I..." Desmond wrinkled his brow, searching through his brain, through the plethora of data freshly dumped there. "...Yeah. I know what we have to do." It surprised him that he knew it.

* * *

Desmond seemed a bit preoccupied these last few days. He was always sitting by himself, and he wasn't talking much. "We're all pretty stressed about this doomsday thing, Lex. And he's under more pressure than anyone," Rebecca had said when Alexis brought it up.

As usual the group split up and checked in to three different hotels: Rebecca and Shaun in one, William in another, and Alexis and Desmond in a third. As usual, Desmond examined the room with Eagle Vision before letting his guard down. But something wasn't usual tonight.

"Lex, I need to talk to you." They sat together on the bed. "Don't say anything for now, just listen." She nodded.

"When I was a prisoner at Abstergo, all I wanted was to get back to New York, mixing drinks, going to shows, and having fun with you... I still kinda miss those days, but I realized a while ago that I'm meant to be an Assassin. It's my fate. I can't change that. It's in my blood... and all my other cells too. Heh." He allowed himself a wry chuckle.

"Your fate brought you to that villa, to be standing at the window right when I sliced my hand open on the rooftop. But you **chose** to listen to my crazy story. You **chose** to leave your family and friends behind, to accompany me despite the risk. If you wanted to, you could choose to become an Assassin yourself. Or, you could choose to leave us and start a new life. It's all about freedom, you know that."

Alexis nodded.

Desmond took a deep breath and continued. "Life as an Assassin is dangerous. I made that clear to you from the night you found me on the balcony in Monteriggioni. Now that I'm going out on missions, I face even greater risk. And none of us knows what's behind the seal in that temple. I get the feeling that whatever it is, we might not stop the end of the world without sacrificing something."

* * *

"How much farther is it?"

"Not too far now," William said. It was the first time he'd spoken all day, actually.

"What's this place like, anyway?"

"It's secure. That's all that matters."

They continued on for who knows how many minutes as the sun dropped ever lower in the sky. Then William pointed ahead.

It was a barbed wire fence, like a rancher would use to keep livestock from escaping. _Oh yeah, r_ _eal secure_ , Alexis thought, refraining from saying the sarcastic comment aloud. She looked around for a gate, but there was none.

William gently chucked his bag over the fence. Then, with movements so rapid Alexis couldn't follow them precisely, he stepped on a fencepost and leapt over. _Damn, he's pretty agile for a guy his age._ He landed in a crouch, straightened, and turned back, giving them a look that seemed to say, "Well? Come on, what's taking you so long?"

Shaun and Rebecca followed the elder Assassin's example, both nimbly hurdling the barrier.

"Uh, I might need some help on this," Alexis said. The fence came almost as high as her shoulders, and she wouldn't have been able to jump over it even if it weren't barbed wire. 


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> this one's based on a prompt. ["So OP would like to see a fic where the player is a just a presence that the assassin is aware of..."](http://asscreedkinkmeme.dreamwidth.org/2158.html?thread=12099182#cmt12099182)

Edward first felt the Presence while he was chasing down Duncan Walpole.

He had felt a bit odd at the time, but had attributed it to Lightheadedness from the near-drowning. It dissipated soon after he met up with Stede Bonnet.

When Edward arrived at Cuba it was there again although he didn't notice it at first.

Perhaps it was related to the otherworldly Sense which he'd had since boyhood, the Vision his eyes sometimes slipped into?

Upon attending the Governor's clandestine Meeting and hearing of the Observatory, a weird Recognition settled over him, like drops of cold sea spray misting on his skin from a wave breaking nearby.

He'd not known words to describe the Sensation before. In truth, he'd tried to deny to himself that any Sensation was there at all. But now he was certain. It was the sensation of being watched. By a Secret Watcher.

That was the reason he never dismissed the Observatory as a mere Fable.


	3. Chapter 3

She leaned over, gently pushing him to sit on the mattress, then cupped her mouth over his, tracing her tongue briefly over the scar on his lips before plunging it fiercely between them.

 _God, she tastes good!_ Desmond honestly couldn't remember the last time he'd kissed someone. He didn't worry himself trying to remember it right now, though, but simply threw himself into the present moment, enjoying it for what it was, allowing all that existed outside the sparsely furnished sex-romp room to melt away into oblivion as he tangled his tongue around hers in a muddle of tiny motions.

Rebecca made a muffled sound of delight at his enthusiasm, and he felt her smiling into the kiss. Desmond wrapped one arm around her, fell backwards and pulled her down with him, letting gravity smush her soft light body against his own.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This ended up being repurposed into [Amazing](http://archiveofourown.org/works/3470546), though it originates from something else.


	4. Chapter 4

"Desmond. Can you create illusions with the Apple?"

"Uh yeah, that's kinda what it does."

"No, I mean, can **you** create illusions with the Apple?"

"Uh. I could try?"

"Then try." William pressed the golden artifact into his son's hands.

"Uh, okay." Desmond looked down at the thing and rubbed a thumb across one of the grooves in its surface. He was still a little freaked out every time he touched it. _Dunno if I'll ever get over what happened that first time. Even if it was all for the best that she died... I don't like how it happened. The thought of losing control of my body like that again is fucking terrifying._

William made an impatient gesture in the air.

"What, right **now**?"

"You're not busy with anything else at the moment, are you?"

Being put on the spot like this was uncomfortable. But then again, that had always been William's way: diving straight off the deep end of things, no easing into it or warming up first. "Well, uh. Any particular kinda illusion you're wanting?" _Not that I have any idea how to do **any** kind of 'em, but I gotta have something to aim for._

William paused to think for the briefest of moments. "Make yourself invisible."

"Startin' me off with an easy one, huh?" Desmond found the sarcastic retort leaving his lips before he'd thought the words through.

"No use doing things half-measure."

"Mm. Well, here goes." He allowed his mind to go blank, then focused on the heavy feeling of the Apple of Eden in his hands, trying to direct all of his mental energy down his arms, out of his fingertips, into the ancient metal, as though it were an extension of his body, as though he had a second brain in there that was capable of so much more than the one in his head.

William found himself holding his breath when the device began to give off that eerie glow. Light fractured out in thin beams from the many rings on it, a cold light that burned through the air like a more disciplined form of lightning. Geometric. Stable. Yet at the same time, it was impossible not to sense the possibility of chaos lurking beneath that facade of control.

Danger masquerading as peace. William was suddenly reminded of the Templar Order, and then couldn't stop himself from imagining how utterly helpless the Brotherhood would be if Desmond's loyalties ever turned against them.

 _Perhaps we shouldn't be training him to use the Apple_ , he thought, but then a nanosecond later rebuked himself for it. _Don't distrust him! He's Assassin through and through! He's risked his life so many times..._

Unconsciously Desmond had closed his eyes. "So, am I invisible?" He sounded way too casual.

William had to take a second to find his voice again. "Ah, no."

"Not even a little bit?"

"No. No change."

Desmond squeezed his eyelids tighter, and the rest of his face tensed up accordingly as he concentrated. Many of the otherworldly beams shut off now, leaving only the ones that were pointed at him. There was a faint pixely flickering across his body.

"Ah, something's happening."

"What?" Desmond grunted. Apparently it was difficult for him to talk while doing this.

"It's... I'm not sure how to describe it. A haze of some sort."

No sooner had these words left William's mouth, the haze and the beams dissipated. Desmond's legs buckled and he fell to his hands and knees, sweating, panting, trembling. "Jesus fuck, that takes a lot outta me."

The Apple rolled away, inert. William stopped it from escaping down the slope by trapping it under his foot, then kicked it back to Desmond. "Try again."

* * *

"Hold it right there, Miles."

Desmond froze. His eyes darted around, seeking the voice's owner.

They didn't have to seek for long, though. A smartly-dressed man emerged from a car parked ahead. "We've been looking for you," the man purred slimily.

Desmond put on his best confused-innocent act. "Who? What?"

"Don't play dumb with me, Assassin." This last word was an arrogant hiss. The man strode confidently toward him, the barrel of a handgun glinting in the moonlight. "You know who we are, and we know who you are, so just cut the crap already."


	5. Chapter 5

He flickered slightly, disappeared, and popped back into view a few inches to the left.

Desmond grabbed his arm as if that would stop him from glitching again. "Are you okay, man? Your avatar's flaking out or something."

"It happens," Clay shrugged. "When I'm using a lot of memory. If I start to use too many resources then my visualization gets turned off."

"Can you... control how much memory you use?"

He shrugged again. "To some extent, yes."

Desmond let go of Clay's arm and shook his head in mild disbelief. "It must be pretty weird being a computer program." 

* * *

"I'd..." Desmond gulped. "If you really wanted to, I'd let you hitch a ride out of here through me." He managed to choke out the offer without envisioning the detailed of said ride-hitching too finely.

* * *

"You're certain about this, Desmond?" Clay asked with a heavy note of finality. "You're certain you want me to-"

"Yeah," Desmond cut in.

Clay made a hand gesture, bringing up a block of text in the air. "Because once I run this code, that's it, I can't undo it. You could change your mind afterward, but that would be-"

"Just do it already, asshole."

Clay emitted the smallest of sighs and closed his eyes. Line by line, the floating text vanished as the code was executed. 


End file.
